Seal of Surrender Read Free Page B

of war?”
    Irena’s answering tone held both sorrow and resignation. “Exactly.”
    â€œC’mon, babe.” Drake nudged her in the side. The movement caused part of her martini to slosh onto the bar. “Let’s not talk shop tonight, eh?”
    The guy’s condescending endearment grated on Chago’s already raw nerves worse than a dull razor. Apparently he wasn’t the only one. Drake kissed Irena on the cheek and slid his hand down her back to cup her butt. He didn’t miss Irena’s flinch or the heated glare she shot her boss.
    â€œHey, the congressman’s over there. I need to talk to him for a minute. Be right back,” Drake said before hustling away through the crowd like a bargain hunter on Black Friday.
    â€œHow’d you get involved in this line of work?” Chago forced his attention from Irena to the crowded ballroom. “It seems an unusual choice for a young woman.”
    â€œI grew up with war.” She, too, swiveled to survey the dance floor. “I’m Croatian.”
    Chago glanced down at the top of her head and smiled. So far, she’d stayed on course with the bio Barron had provided. And she’d been truthful. He liked truthful. “I’m impressed you’ve made it this far.”
    â€œI’m a lot tougher than I appear.”
    â€œI’ve no doubt.”
    â€œAnd what do you do, Chago? Besides making all these women swoon.” Irena tilted her head to indicate a group of nearby gawking ladies.
    He faced the bar again. Heat rose beneath the collar of his starched shirt as he wrestled with his bowtie and lost. “I guess you could say I’m a consultant. Military intelligence, combat.”
    And eager as hell to change the subject.
He shifted position and noted the abundance of male interest directed at his bar mate and hitched his head to the side. “You seem to be drawing your own share of attention in that attire.”
    Irena gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Sell the sizzle, Drake always says.”
    â€œOh, that’s what he says?” Chago ran an appreciative gaze over her from head to toe. “Mission accomplished.”
    â€œThank you. Ditto.”
    He couldn’t halt his reciprocating smile and realized he’d not been this comfortable in a woman’s presence since … He severed the trail of his thoughts before any painful memories surfaced. The last thing he needed were old, immutable heartaches to cloud his judgment. Not with Archon on the prowl.
    â€œWhat’d I miss?” Drake returned to the bar and slid a possessive arm around Irena’s waist. She shifted and his hand fell away. His reciprocating stare could’ve melted steel.
    â€œWe were discussing your business model,” Irena said, darting a quick glance at Chago. “Right.” Drake took a healthy sip of his Martini before grabbing her arm. “C’mon babe, we’ve got funds to raise. Nice to meet you.”
    They exchanged a handshake before Chago shifted his attention back to Irena.
    Drake was already too busy choosing his next victim to pay either of them any attention. With a frisson of orneriness riding him hard, Chago grasped Irena’s fingers and bent to brush his lips atop her knuckles. He couldn’t resist shooting her a wink before he straightened. “Go sell that sizzle.”
    The couple walked away and he leaned back against the bar. This mission could prove more enjoyable than he expected — once he got out of tuxedo-clad hell, of course. He ran another finger inside the stiff collar of his shirt and caught the admiring stare of a woman across the way. He smiled and her mouth fell open. She started toward him only to be stopped by her partner’s restraining hand. Sometimes the game was too easy.
    His cell phone vibrated, interrupting his diversion. He pulled out the device and scanned the caller ID. Barron. “Si
?
”
    â€œWhat’s up,